


Of Blood and Water

by randi2204



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-24
Updated: 2011-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-28 00:38:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randi2204/pseuds/randi2204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other’s life.  Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.</i><br/>-- Richard Bach, <i>Illusions</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Blood and Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JoJo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJo/gifts).



> Disclaimer: All characters herein are owned by MGM, Mirisch and Trilogy. This is purely for fun, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Sitting in the sun outside the saloon, just enjoying the warmth and quiet, Buck heard the creak and jingle of tack and pushed back his hat.  JD pulled up his horse at the hitching rail and even though it wasn’t even noon yet, he moved as slow as if it was a hot July night after a long hard day of cutting hay.  He slumped into the chair next to Buck’s, took his hat off and let out a long sigh.

 

 _Well, this don’t look good,_ he thought.  “Mornin’, JD.”

 

“Buck.” 

 

Now normally, there’d be a slew of words, not just the one.  _Nope, this ain’t good at all_.  He shifted, stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles.  “You all right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Now, JD,” Buck said, tilting his head to give JD a tiny smile, “don’t try an’ fool ol’ Buck, ‘cause you know it don’t work.”

 

Even with the arched eyebrow, the skeptical look JD gave him was just a ghost of its usual self.  The dark circles under his eyes stood out even against his tanned skin.

 

Different track, Buck decided, and faced the street again.  “Everything goin’ good at Nettie’s?”

 

JD muttered under his breath and Buck had to smother his grin.  When he and Casey had finally decided to get married, JD had balked fiercely at living in Nettie’s house, and declared he was going to build one.  That was, until Nettie had sat him down and explained things to him – how Casey was going to have that land when Nettie was gone, since all Nettie’s own children had either died or moved far away to make their own lives, and particularly how dadblamed _foolish_ it was to build another house when you’d be inheriting one anyway.  Even afterwards, JD had been kind of prickly about it, but he’d eventually agreed.  Mentioning it was still a good way to get under his skin, particularly if he were out of sorts already.

 

And Buck had a pretty good idea of why JD was out of sorts.

 

“Everything’s _fine_ , Buck,” JD answered, biting the words out sharp.

 

 _Oh, yeah,_ Buck thought, _boy’s touchier than a grizzly wakin’ up after a winter nap._   “Glad to hear it,” he said, and just waited.

 

It wasn’t a minute later before JD burst out, “It’s just… Casey didn’t sleep too well last night, and I guess she was angry or… or _somethin’_ that I was, so she kept wakin’ me up, and then she got even madder when I kept fallin’ back to sleep.  It’s not like I could help it, Buck, ‘cause I’ve been workin’ on finishin’ the addition, but she musta thought I could, and then when I got up, she wouldn’t even say ‘Good mornin’’ to me!” He ran his hands through his hair.  “Damn near poured the coffee in my lap, slammed my eggs down in front of me, burnt the bacon… and I don’t even know for sure what I _did_ to make her so mad!  If I knew, at least I could apologize!”

 

“I reckon it’s some months too late for an apology,” Buck offered with a grin.  “”Least if it’s what I _think_ it is that’s got her madder than a scalded cat.”

 

“Months?” JD gaped at him for a moment, then his face flushed bright red and he dropped his gaze. “You mean…” he whispered almost soundlessly.  “But I… she…”

 

“A woman goes through a lot to make a baby.  Gettin’ near her time, even someone as sweet as Casey might be… a little upset with the man who got her that way.”

 

 “Upset?” JD nearly choked.  “Upset ain’t the word, never mind it bein’ a _little_ bit!  I didn’t know it was going to be like this, Buck – I mean, I didn’t know _she_ was gonna get like this! I swear, I don’t think I’ve done one thing right for the past six months. Couple days ago, she was complainin’ about the room I’m buildin’ on, sayin’ that the planks weren’t set right, and that she could build it better than me.  She even said that she’d _show_ me if she weren’t… y’know…” He made a vague gesture toward his stomach.

 

Buck tried hard not to grin, he really did.  “Son, her baby’s gonna be sleepin’ in that room, so she just wants it to be _right_.  When a gal’s fixin’ to have a baby, she’s thinkin’ so hard on that little life that she just can’t hardly think of anythin’ else.  Her man don’t think he knows her anymore, ‘cause she’s not the same as she used to be – not just how she looks, but how she looks _at_ things, because she’s not lookin’ at them the same way she used to.”

 

“Aw, what do you know?” JD muttered, slouching back into the chair and fiddling with the brim of his hat.  The blush still stained his cheeks.  “You ain’t been around a woman when she’s like… this.”

 

Buck blew out a long breath.  It didn’t take a lot of thought to know what the kid was _really_ saying.  “No, JD, it ain’t never been my wife, or even a gal carryin’ my baby.  But don’t you think I didn’t see it when I was growin’ up.  Even saw a little bit of it when Sarah was near the end of her time.  Makin’ a baby… well, it isn’t easy.”

 

JD wouldn’t look at him, just kept fidgeting with his hat.  “Well, all I can say is I can’t wait ‘till the baby’s born and everything’s back the way it used to be.”

 

He laughed at that, a belly laugh he just couldn’t contain. “Oh, JD,” he managed, still chuckling, “I know you’re all grown up and married, but son, you still got a lot to learn.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” JD demanded indignantly.

 

“You’ll find out soon enough, I reckon,” he replied with a smug grin.  “And I hope you know Casey’s gonna kick your ass for comin’ into town.”

 

JD bit his lip, shifted a little in his seat.  “But I do it every day, to check out the folks on the stage and make sure there ain’t any trouble.”

 

“Yeah, I know, but you’re here awfully early – the earliest the stage can get here is more’n an hour from now, you know that.  A gal might think you’re avoidin’ her.”

 

“Well, I _am_ … oh.”  He winced.  “I guess that ain’t good right now?”

 

“No, JD, that ain’t good _any_ time… ‘specially now.”  Buck laughed again at JD’s muttered _“Damn.”_

 

The creak of the batwing doors behind him was his only warning that someone was exiting the saloon.  “Well, Mr. Wilmington, the day sees you in good spirits.”

 

Buck just leaned back, grinning.  “It’s a beautiful day, sun’s shinin’, got my friends around… hell, what’s not to be in good spirits about?”

 

Ezra chuckled softly.  “What indeed,” he murmured, tugging at his sleeves.

 

Then he dragged another chair forward so he could sit in the sun as well.  “Mornin’, JD.  And how is the fair Miz Dunne today?” With his feet propped on a barrel, he pulled a deck out of his pocket and began making the cards dance between his fingers.  Before JD could even stammer an answer to his question, Ezra began to talk, a few acid observations on the people who arrived on the previous day’s stage, which, predictably, caused JD to respond.

 

For a while, Buck listened, grinning widely as he offered his own thoughts, but slowly, Ezra let the talk peter out.  JD started to drift off, catching up on missed sleep, and before too long, the only sounds were those from the street and the faint ruffling of Ezra’s cards. 

 

Ezra stopped shuffling when he saw Buck settle his hat down over his eyes, and turned his manipulation of the cards into an in-hand solitaire game.  Shortly, Buck’s snores rose in counterpoint to JD’s, leaving him alone to contemplate the town and the friends at his side.

 

It was still a dusty little place in the road, just a little wider than the road itself; there was little chance of it becoming anything else.  It would never be more than the back end of nowhere.   

 

And though he persisted in using vaguely derogatory terms to describe the town, he no longer questioned why he stayed.  There were simply more reasons to stay than there were to move on, the main one of which had woken him early that morning with a breath-stealing kiss before departing his room above the saloon.

 

In his most secret thoughts, Ezra still sometimes marveled that Chris found him worth caring about, wanted him as more than just a warm body in his bed.

 

The sound of the stagecoach cut off any further introspection, however, and Ezra shook JD’s shoulder.  “Wake up, son.”

 

JD woke with a start, jerking upright, his feet thumping against the boardwalk.  “’m awake!” he blurted.

 

Buck snorted at the noise and came awake as well.  “What?”

 

Ezra smiled widely.  _More reasons to stay than go,_ he thought again.

 

Then the stage was rolling down the street past them, slowing to a stop at the station down the other end.

 

“A mite late, ain’t it?” Buck asked.  He didn’t bother to pull out his watch to check, though.

 

“Wonder if they ran into some kinda trouble?” JD offered and stood as the stage clattered down the street.  “Guess it’s a good thing I stayed until now, huh?”

 

“She’s still gonna kick your ass,” Buck said, grinning.  “Right, Ezra?”

 

“ _Slept_ until now, you mean,” Ezra corrected, “and, yes, she will without a doubt.”

 

JD rolled his eyes.

 

Tucking away his cards, Ezra stood to join JD in looking over the travelers exiting the stage, though, of course, his scrutiny was for a very different reason.  After all the years he’d been in this town, determining who might be interested in a game of poker and who would have pockets deep enough to make that game worthwhile had become almost second nature.

 

There was something distinctly familiar about the way the stagecoach was laden with luggage, so much so that Ezra knew his mother would step out even before the driver reached up to offer her his hand.

 

“If you gentlemen will excuse me,” he said, settling his hat, “filial duty calls.”

 

“Filial…?” JD started, but he was already on his way down the street, knowing that his mother would expect him there to greet her and, no doubt, play pack mule for her dozens of cases.

 

Maude saw him approaching and smiled – something a bit warmer than her usual cool expression.  For a moment, he thought it was actually something spontaneous.  Just as quickly, he decided he was wrong.  _Mother is never that… unguarded._

 

“Hello, Mother,” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.  “This is a pleasant surprise.”

 

“Well of course it is, darlin’,” she replied, and pressed her dry lips to his cheek in turn.  “It’s been more than six months since you’ve come to St. Louis, so I’ve had to come here instead.”

 

“You had only to let me know my presence was required.” The words came out a bit sharper than he intended, but then his mother often had that effect.  He let out a soft breath.  “I would have been on my way immediately.”

 

“Now, don’t take on that way, Ezra.  Besides, it was long past time I came to visit you.”

 

Rather than say anything further that might indicate he was displeased with this visit – he wasn’t, really, and their recent letters had been more… cordial than usual ( _but then we always get on well when there are hundreds of miles between us,_ he thought) – Ezra bent to pick up some of Maude’s cases.

 

“Leave those,” Maude said carelessly, her hand on his arm, and he glanced up at her in surprise.  “Fetching them is the porter’s job, after all.”

 

“Uh… yes, of course.” He offered her his arm and led her onto the boardwalk, all the while wondering what angle she was working this time.

 

“Oh, my.  Is that an actual side street?” Maude made a show of peering across the main street.  “I declare, this dusty little place is growin’ by leaps and bounds!”

 

Ezra blew out a breath.  “So, Mother… how long will you grace us with your presence this time?”

 

She leaned back and frowned delicately at him.  “Well, if that isn’t the most polite way of askin’ when I’m leavin’ again,” she said, a sharp note creeping into her voice.  “But as it happens, I will only be here a short while.  I’m on my way to San Francisco.”

 

 _San Francisco_ , he thought, with a wistfulness he couldn’t quite stop.  It had been a long time since he’d been there.

 

“I’d be delighted if you would accompany me,” Maude said, her eyes now focused down the street, looking for the hotel sign.  “As much as I know you… _adore_ this… quaint little corner of nowhere, it would do you good to get out of it for a while.”

 

The words closely echoed Ezra’s own thoughts from earlier, but had an edge his own had lacked.  _It’s only because it’s Mother_ , he told himself.  Because a reply was expected, he said, “I’ll think about it.”  And he would.  He also knew that he would refuse.  He and his mother in a stage for days and days was not a recipe for a harmonious arrival in San Francisco.  Not to mention all he’d be leaving behind. __

When they arrived at the hotel, Maude turned to him.  “Since I’ve come so far out of my way to see you, I shall be expecting you to join me for dinner tonight.”

 

 _Trust her to put that spin on it_ , he thought with a wry bitterness that always seemed to accompany his thoughts of Maude.  “For dinner.  Until then, I’ll leave you to rest from your no doubt arduous journey,” he added as dryly as he could before touching the brim of his hat and heading back down the boardwalk to the saloon.

 

“And Ezra,” she called after him, unnecessarily loudly, “ _do_ wear something a little less… shabby?”

 

His shoulders tightened at that, and he had to resist the urge to brush the dust off his coat.  As much as he’d been glad to see her, he knew he’d be equally glad to see her leave.  _And yet,_ he reflected, as he returned JD’s farewells, and stepped into the saloon for a fortifying drink, _I’ll still… miss her when she goes._

 

As the whiskey burned down his throat, he wondered what Maude wanted this time, because she rarely took the time to visit him otherwise.

 

***

Chris rode into town as dusk was falling.  He usually did, to have dinner with the boys, take his turn making sure the town was peaceful… though mostly that was his excuse to relax and have a drink or two in the saloon.

 

 _And watch Ezra play cards,_ he reminded himself, as if he could forget.  That was about the only time he got to appreciate Ezra in public.

 

Dinner together had become a habit for them long before JD and Casey had married, even before Chris had moved out to his cabin.  He told himself it was easier than making a meal for just himself.

 

He had just taken the seat next to Vin when Ezra came down the stairs, hat in one hand and brushing at the sleeves of his tail coat with the other.  At the bottom of the stairs, he looked up, and, seeing Chris, gave him a regretful little smile, little more than a curve of his lip.  “Enjoy your repast, gentlemen,” he said, settling his hat and running his fingers along the brim.  Then he made sure his watch was tucked into his vest pocket and pushed out into the evening.

 

Chris frowned after him.  Having Ezra next to him while they ate, their legs pressed tightly together, wasn’t the only reason he enjoyed these dinners with the others, but it was still a nice one.  He turned to Vin, who just shrugged eloquently, then to Josiah, who sat on Vin’s other side.

 

“Maude’s in town,” Josiah answered, after a pull from his beer.  “I believe she demanded his presence at dinner this evening.”

 

“Yeah,” Chris said, nodding slowly.  “I reckon she would.”  He studied the doorway for a moment, still frowning.  Then Buck and Nathan pushed through the doors and headed for their table.

 

“Hey, Chris,” Buck said, sitting down next to him.  “Don’t think we’ll have to wait on Ezra tonight.”

 

“No, I heard Maude’s here.”  He managed a smile for Inez as she set down a mug of beer in front of him.  He took a swallow and found himself staring at the two empty places across from him – one for JD, one for Ezra.

 

Chris let the conversation flow around him as they waited for their dinner and then ate, paying it no mind.  He just couldn’t shake the feeling that Maude’s presence here did not bode well.  It rarely did – each time she visited, it took some time for Ezra to shake off the ghost of her presence afterward.

 

And that was if they didn’t quarrel while she was here.

 

He knew Maude often demanded Ezra leave this town, go back with her to St. Louis or maybe some other place, bigger, flashier, richer than here, and that always made a tiny curl of fear and doubt burn in his chest.  So far, the lure of riches elsewhere hadn’t been stronger than whatever kept Ezra here, but Chris knew it was possible that one day it would be.

 

 _Wonder if this is the time,_ he thought and finished his meal, hardly tasting it.

 

***

They had hardly seated themselves before Maude commented, “If you want to come with me to San Francisco, you’ll have to have to reserve a place on the stage as quickly as possible.”

 

Ezra sat back in his chair.  “Now, Mother, you know I’ve hardly had time to consider the matter.”

 

She flashed a tight, slightly displeased smile at him before perusing the menu.  “Well, I do suggest you make the decision sooner rather than later, dear boy.”  Then she started telling him some news about relatives he barely remembered.  He suspected she barely remembered them either, that these stories she was telling were as fabricated as the ones she told of his childhood.  But then, he thought, appearances are everything.  The appearance here was of a lovely widow visiting her only child.

 

Ezra waited until he could no longer stand the tales his mother was relating.  At least they were nearly done with their dinner. “So, Mother, what business takes you to San Francisco?”

 

Maude looked up from her meal wearing her coyest smile, then glanced around the hotel restaurant.  There were few guests, as it was small, but apparently even the few that were there were too many.  She leaned forward slightly.  “I believe I would prefer to wait until we are a bit more private before discussin’ that aspect of my travels.”

 

 _As I expected,_ he thought with no small amount of sarcasm.  But he nodded and inquired instead after news since her last letter, which had, in part, detailed her quest to sell the casino she’d acquired.

 

“I believe the hotel parlor is free,” Maude suggested when they had finished eating, and Ezra offered her his arm.

 

Once they were behind the closed door, he asked, “What are you plannin’ this time, Mother?”

 

Her eyes gleamed in the light of the oil lamp.  “I’m not goin’ to San Francisco, but to Santa Clarita.  Ezra, darlin’, there is such potential for money, you simply won’t believe it.  Perhaps you’ve heard of the black gold that has been discovered there?  Companies are vying for the land that oil is under, and willin’ to pay top dollar for it.  Why, those fields can bring in an absolute fortune for us!  The capital we’ll need to have at first will more than triple in value – and that is a most conservative estimate, I’ll have you know.”

 

“Mother,” he interrupted, “is that why you were so eager to sell your casino?”

 

She waved one hand, as if the casino were of little consequence.  “Oh, heavens, no. That was purely business.”

 

“I see.  Nothing at all to do with the need to leave St. Louis in a hurry… again?” he couldn’t quite stop himself from asking, a smirk playing about his mouth.

 

“Your time here has made you quite cynical.” Ezra had fallen out of practice at reading her tone of voice, and couldn’t tell if that was vague approval or not.  “I certainly hope that you’ll be able to leave that aside when we arrive, because it will certainly push away those we wish to…”

 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t possibly have heard you correctly… when _we_ arrive?”

 

Maude laughed, a cheery sound that Ezra knew well.  “Well of course.  Why on earth would I have stopped here if not to bring you along?  I even have the perfect role for you to play when we begin our work.”

 

“A role,” he said flatly, and looked away.  That vague fluttering of hope he had felt in his chest, his belief that Maude might have actually come to see _him_ , turned to the same old dread and hurt in a moment.  Because, once again, she _hadn’t_.

 

“Ezra, what is wrong with you?” Maude demanded.  “Here I am catering to your… delicate sensibilities, and you’re _still_ actin’ like I’ve taken away your favorite toy!”

 

“Mother…” Ezra took a breath, tried to reply calmly, but the words came out as bitter as the north wind.  “Despite what you believe, I am not a tool for you to use when you need to and then abandon again!”

 

For only a moment, Ezra thought he saw surprise cross Maude’s face, but then it was gone, replaced by dismissal.  “Oh, that again? I thought we had discussed that years ago.”

 

“We may have discussed it, but as I recall, no resolution was reached.”  His throat tightened.  _Why can’t she just…_

 

“The resolution was that there was no cotton-gin con run here,” she shot back.  “But this time we won’t be runnin’ the con _here_ – why, there’s nothing here in this pitiful little place in the road but dust anyway! There’s an opportunity now for wealth like we’ve only dreamed of, Ezra!”

 

For a heartbeat, he considered it.  What would happen if he _were_ to go along with her, despite his protest?  They’d be off in California, far, far from this tiny little town.  No one here would be injured by their actions…

 

But, perhaps best of all, it would be the same as when he was younger, after he’d grown enough and developed enough talent with cards that Maude was willing to take him with her.  This time, though, if they managed to pull it off, the payout would be… immeasurable.  So much money as he truly had only dreamt about.

 

 _What could I do with such an amount of money?_ he asked himself.  _Clothes only from the best tailors, a saloon of my own, perhaps even several… find the fastest, finest horse in the world and buy it for…_

 

 _Chris._   It was almost a physical pain to think of what would happen if Chris discovered _why_ he left with Maude.  _Chris trusts me,_ he thought, closing his eyes.  _He thinks I can do what is right, despite…everythin’.  Maybe I can._

 

It was painful to have to choose between the different expectations on him – what his mother demanded and what Chris believed – but in the end, it was less difficult than he’d feared.  The pain that filled his chest at the thought of Chris’s disappointment – at the thought of _losing_ Chris – was stronger even than what he’d felt the first time Maude had left him behind.

 

He opened his eyes, focused on her once again.  “Mother, I…”

 

He didn’t have to say any more than that.  She stiffened, eyes narrowing.  “You’re not comin’ with me?” There was disbelief in her voice, but there was more anger.

 

“No, I’m afraid I can’t.”  _She was upset before, too,_ he thought, _when I said no to the cotton-gin scam. Maybe I can soothe her as I did then._ “I have… prior commitments that preclude me making such a journey.”

 

Maude sniffed.  “I knew this would happen,” she said, her voice low and vicious.  “I don’t know now why I even bothered.  This place, these… _people_ – they’ve made you weak, Ezra.  They’ve made you _soft_.  You are not the son I raised.”

 

He flinched away from her knife-sharp words, paling in shock.  This wasn’t a mere upset; his mother was _angry_ with him, truly angry, not something that was carefully constructed for others to see.  “Mother, you don’t…”

 

“I don’t mean it?  Perhaps I do.  What was it you said that time, Ezra? That I didn’t raise you half as well as a stray cat?  Well perhaps that’s true, my darlin’ boy, and all my efforts in teaching you a trade and giving you a purpose were simply for my own benefit.  And if that’s what you truly think, then I believe it’s best I find someone else.  Someone who will appreciate all the sacrifices I’ve made.  Someone who’ll listen to me and is willing to do what’s necessary.”

 

His chest felt tight and he couldn’t breathe.  _Someone else?_ he thought distantly.  _She’s goin’ to replace me? She can’t, I’m her son, I’m…_

 

She shook her head when he was able to say nothing, and turned away.

 

“Mother…” Ezra hated how his voice sounded so _wounded_ , how he reached out, still yearning for her approval somehow.  Most of all, he hated that she could still – _still_ , even after all the years that had passed – make him feel just as powerless as that abandoned child he had been, helpless to stop her from walking away from him again and again.

 

She swept toward the door.  Before he could even find any words that might make her stay – not that he ever had been able to in the past – it shut behind her with a soft _click_.

 

***

The saloon was busy but it was a cheerful kind of busy.  It didn’t seem likely that any brawls would break out tonight.

 

Comfortably slouched, Chris sat alone at the table where he and the others had eaten supper, nursing his whiskey and keeping one eye on the saloon doors.   Buck had already left for his evening entertainment. Nathan and Josiah had gone not long after, Josiah saying that he needed to brush up on his love poetry to woo Maude.  Nathan had laughed as they disappeared into the night.

 

Vin had stayed for a while longer, sipping his beer, until Chris said, “You can go on to bed if you want.  It doesn’t seem like there’s gonna be trouble.”

 

Grinning, Vin had replied, “Reckon I’ll hear the gunshots if there is, anyway.”

 

“Reckon so.” Chris gave him a brief grin in return.

 

“See ya tomorrow.” Standing, Vin finished his beer and left.

 

 _Just waitin’ on Ezra now,_ Chris thought, toying with his glass.  Ezra and Maude were never a great combination, whether they were getting along or not.  Maude had too much ability to hurt Ezra.  _S’pose the reverse is true, too,_ he added out of fairness, but he cared a lot more about Ezra than he did Maude, and that was the truth.

 

Chris had been sitting alone for some time before Ezra pushed through the doors into the saloon, and he knew that whatever he’d been expecting, the reality was worse.  He was familiar with the masks that Ezra wore to hide, to pretend he wasn’t feeling what he was feeling; he’d seen them too many times to count in all the years they’d been here.

 

Ezra was wearing a mask now, one with a grin too wide and bright to be real, and he made directly for the bar, waving at those who addressed him, but not speaking.   

 

But that mask was fragile, and Chris saw beneath it in an instant, saw that he was struggling to keep it in place just long enough to escape to his room.  Chris straightened in his seat.

 

Ezra paid Inez for a bottle and headed up the stairs.

 

 _Oh, God, what’d she do to him this time?_ Chris asked himself, not quite able to tear his gaze away from Ezra’s slow trudge up to his room.  After Ezra had disappeared from view, he sat for a couple more minutes, finishing his whiskey and ignoring the noise and chatter surrounding him.  When the whiskey was gone, he rose and made his way outside.

 

While it wasn’t likely the crowd in the saloon would notice him following Ezra to his room, Chris wasn’t about to take that chance.  Instead, he circled around to go up the back stairs, and tapped on Ezra’s door.

 

Ezra was so long in answering that Chris was just about to knock again or maybe try the door when it opened.  Ezra stood framed in the doorway, without his coat, vest or tie; he didn’t even have any of his weapons on him.  He didn’t move to let Chris past him, either; just stared at him, eyes shadowed.

 

“Can I come in?” Chris asked quietly.  He ached to touch him, ease some of his pain, but he also knew Ezra, knew that if he made an overture before Ezra was ready for it, Ezra would say nothing at all.

 

“Of course,” Ezra replied, his voice thick, and stood aside so Chris could enter.  As he did, he saw the whiskey bottle on the stand with the mirror, its contents already noticeably low.  Ezra held an empty glass in one hand.  “I’d offer you a whiskey, but I only have one glass.”  He shut the door, twisted the key in the lock.

 

 _And you weren’t intendin’ to share anyway,_ Chris finished silently.  “I’m not here after whiskey.”

 

“No?” Ezra affected surprise as he poured another glass.  “Then what _are_ you ‘here after’?”  He tossed back the whiskey, poured again.

 

“Nothin’,” Chris said, and sat down on the edge of the bed.  _What the hell did Maude say this time?_   _That_ was what he wanted to ask, but he bit back the words.  “Just… I missed you at supper, and wanted to see how your dinner with Maude was.”

 

Ezra’s bitter chuckle was not a surprise.  He swallowed the whiskey in his glass, tipped more in.  “Our dinner? Our dinner was without incident, as Mother declined to discuss her business while we ate.  It was only afterward…” He stopped, sounding a bit choked, and emptied his glass again.

 

He had no idea what Maude had actually said, but now Chris could guess at the general topic.  Maude had tried to entice Ezra into running some scheme the first time she’d come to town, he’d refused and they’d had words; Ezra had told him as much after one of Maude’s later visits, a night with too much whiskey and too little sleep, long, long after the first time he’d been in Ezra’s bed.

 

 _Much as I’m glad he’s not goin’ along with her plans,_ Chris thought, _I never wanted her to hurt him like she must’ve done tonight._   The thought made his chest hurt a little.  “Come here,” he ordered softly.  When Ezra looked at him, glass at his lips and expression mulish, he added, “You can bring your bottle.”

 

Ezra sat next to him on the bed, and set the bottle on the bedside table, moving with an exaggerated carefulness that Chris couldn’t help but recognize, having used it so often himself.  Then he looked at Chris, eyebrows raised, as if saying “I’m here, now what?”

 

Chris shifted a little to face Ezra, let his thumb stroke along the edge of Ezra’s cheekbone, then curled his hand around the back of his neck.  Ezra blinked at him, but didn’t jerk away.  “You don’t have to tell me what she said,” he offered in that same quiet tone.  “But you _can_.  Or you can crawl into the bottle, if you want, and I’ll make sure you get to bed.  I’ll stay the night, too, no matter what.” He let out a breath, a little afraid that he was doing this all wrong, and looked down at his leg instead.  “Just… it hurts me to know whatever she said is hurtin’ you.”

 

Ezra flinched away from his hand, so Chris let it drop to the bed.  But he didn’t get up, didn’t move away.  Watching him from under lowered lashes, Chris saw him contemplate his glass, then finish the alcohol left in it before twirling it in his long fingers.  He didn’t reach for the bottle again, and Chris thought that might be a good sign.

 

He still had to wait longer than he thought he would for Ezra to speak.

 

Ezra stared into the depths of the empty glass, like the answers he wanted were hidden there and he could find them if he tilted it just right.  “Am I so… easily replaceable?”

 

Chris felt his breath catch at the question, at the quiet confusion and resignation it held, so removed from the earlier bitterness.  “No,” he replied, and his voice was rough but he damned well didn’t care.  It wasn’t that he couldn’t imagine his life without Ezra in it; it was that he _could_ , and he didn’t much like what he saw.  No smart mouth or cocky grin, no flashing hands or quick wit, none of the challenge Ezra gave him just from being there, being _Ezra_.  “You aren’t replaceable.  Not to any of us.  Not to me.” 

 

Silence fell between them for another long moment, then Ezra turned to look at him.  The shadows were still there in his eyes, and anger surged through Chris at the sight, made him long to do something drastic.

 

“I find myself in need of company,” Ezra said in a low tone.  His accent had deepened with the whiskey he’d drunk.  “Your offer to stay… does it still stand?”

 

Chris nodded and swallowed.  “Yeah,” he replied, voice husky.  “Anything you want.”

 

Ezra nodded slowly, and leaned against him, twisting to tuck his face against Chris’s neck.  “I think… your presence will be satisfactory,” he whispered.  “Knowing you are here…”

 

Chris enfolded him in an embrace without even thinking, one hand combing through Ezra’s hair, the other stroking his back.  And if Ezra’s shoulders trembled a little, or Chris thought he felt something hot and damp on his neck, that, like so many other things, would never leave this room.

 

***

Chris had thought that after the words Maude had thrown at Ezra – not that he knew exactly what they were, but then, he didn’t really have to, he just knew their effect – she would have left him alone.  In fact, he’d kind of hoped that she’d leave him alone until she left on the next day’s stage.

 

But apparently she didn’t have that kind of decency, since there she was, walking down the street, parasol out, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.  She seemed to hesitate when she saw him sitting outside the saloon, but only for a moment before she headed through the batwing doors.

 

Chris waited a beat before following her in.  The saloon wasn’t quite empty, because there were always a few folks around for a drink or one of Inez’s meals, but he was pretty sure that wouldn’t deter Maude in any way from having another go at Ezra if that’s what she was after.

 

Maude had already made her way to Ezra’s table, and Ezra stood to pull out a chair for her.  He was desperately trying to give nothing away in his expression, but Chris could see the pinched, wary look around his eyes, and if _he_ could, Maude certainly could as well.

 

On impulse, he strode to Ezra’s table just as Ezra resumed his seat.  _Chances are,_ he thought, _Maude won’t lay into him if someone’s right there…_

 

“Mr. Larabee,” Ezra greeted, just as Maude drew breath to speak; she cut herself off, lips pressed thin in disapproval.

 

“Mind if I join you?” Chris asked, then sat down without waiting for an answer.

 

Ezra’s lips twitched.  “Not at all,” he replied dryly, picking up his solitaire game.

 

“Just need to get out of the sun a while,” Chris went on, pulling a book from the pocket of his coat.  “Don’t let me interrupt you.”  He flipped the book open and stretched out his legs under the table until his foot brushed Ezra’s.  Ezra’s foot twitched, but he didn’t draw away.

 

He turned the pages in his book every once in a while, but his attention was focused on the stilted conversation that seemed to be all Maude and Ezra could manage with him present. _Reckon eventually even the two of them would run out of relations with any kind of medical troubles,_ he thought.  _But that’s still a sight more interesting than the state of the road between here and St. Louis._   From time to time, he felt Maude’s gaze on him, cool resentment coming off her in waves, but didn’t let himself react to it.

 

He didn’t much care what Maude thought of him.  And if he made himself the target of her dislike, well, better him than Ezra this time.

 

Even though most of his awareness was on Maude and Ezra, he still noticed when JD entered the saloon, even before he slid into a seat at the table.  “Afternoon, Miz Standish, Chris, Ezra.  Sorry I wasn’t here for the stagecoach.”

 

“JD,” Chris replied, lowering his book.  “You about finished with that room you’ve been buildin’ on?”

 

“Yeah, finally.  Well, _I_ think it’s done, anyway.  Casey still thinks the boards aren’t set right and sent me for more nails.” JD shrugged and studied the baize covering the tabletop, picking at a frayed bit rather than meet anyone’s eye.  “I s’pose she’ll find something else that I ain’t done right when I get home.”

 

“That’ll pass,” Chris said.  The kid looked just like a pup that couldn’t understand why its master wasn’t pleased with the skunk it’d caught. “Things’ll be better.”

 

“Well, I hope so,” JD muttered.

 

Chris fought back a smile and returned to his book.  _Not sure he’d be able to tell that I’m commiseratin’, not laughin’ at him._   Sarah had changed, too, in the months before Adam had been born.  He could remember what it was like, though it didn’t seem as bad now as he’d thought it was at the time…

 

“... Standish, I was wonderin’.” JD’s voice pulled Chris from his thoughts.  “A while back, you told my fortune for me.  ‘Course, it wasn’t so good, so you did that ancient ritual…”

 

“Yes, the Ancient Ritual of Argos,” Maude said.  “I am called upon to perform it quite often.”  She shot a very sharp look at Ezra when he coughed.

 

“Yeah? God, I really hope you don’t have to this time.  But… me and Casey, we got married, and now she’s gonna be havin’ a baby soon, so… I was hopin’… since you’re here, please, could you tell the baby’s fortune?”

 

Chris glanced at Maude and felt a little tingle of evil glee to see that she was completely speechless at JD’s request.  That grin tugged at his mouth again, until he turned to Ezra.  Ezra wasn’t amused; in fact, he looked disturbed, nervous.

 

“JD, I don’t think…”

 

“Why… JD… I’d be delighted.” Maude raised her voice slightly to override the rest of Ezra’s protest.  Then, smiling, she leaned forward as if what she was about to say was in confidence.  “However, to get the best possible reading from the Great Beyond, it’s best to wait until the child is born.  Right now, everything about the baby’s future is protected by his mama.”  Before she sat back, she patted JD’s hand. “You can see how it isn’t wise to fool about with that.”

 

“Uh… yeah.” Clearly JD saw nothing of the kind.  “So, the next time you come to visit Ezra? Maybe then?”

 

“Why I’m sure that’ll be just fine, darlin’,” she said, and the warmth in her voice cooled some, smile becoming brittle.

 

Chris returned to pretending to read, but Ezra and Maude did not pick up their conversation again.  The silence grew heavy, hanging over them like a cloud.

 

Without warning, JD asked, “What’s it like?”  Then, as if realizing that he’d blurted out his question without any of his thoughts behind it, he quickly added, “I mean, you’re a mother, Miz Standish.  What’s it like?”

 

If Chris had thought there was tension in the air before, he thought now that it would suffocate him.  He looked up, right at Ezra, and found him frozen, staring at JD with wide eyes.  He tapped the toe of his boot against Ezra’s foot, the only touch he could give him.  Ezra’s gaze cut to him, then he ducked his head to stare at his cards.  Chris watched him slowly relax so that the cards were no longer curled in his fist, and all the while worked hard convincing himself to resist the urge to dig at Maude by repeating JD’s question.

 

JD looked back and forth between them, brow crinkling.  He hadn’t been present when Ezra had returned to the saloon after dinner with his mother, of course; he’d long since ridden back to Nettie’s for supper, and had no idea why his innocent question had provoked this reaction.  “I just… want to understand what it’s like for Casey…”

 

“Well,” Maude said at last.  She didn’t sound put out, but she didn’t look at anyone, either, just kept staring down at her hands on the table.  “Bein’ a mother is…like nothing else, really. It’s – ” She cut herself off, then her tone changed, became similar to one Chris had often heard from Ezra when he was expounding on some point… or in mid-spiel while spinning a con on someone.  “I’m certain that if you asked _some_ mothers – the lovely Miz Travis, perhaps? – they would tell you that motherhood is a joy, that they are so very proud of  the children they have borne, that they have such talent, they are so clever, that they adore watching them grow and learn.  They will tell you there is nothing better, nothing more wonderful and pure as a mother’s love.

 

“But there are so many things that those mothers won’t tell you.  They won’t say a word about how thankless a task it is to raise those children, or how their love and care is repaid by thoughtlessness and harsh words.”

 

 _I can’t believe I’m hearin’ this!_ Chris thought, grinding his teeth.  His hand clenched into a fist below the level of the table.  Ezra laid down his cards, and his face had gone very pale.  Watching Ezra, he couldn’t decide if it would be best to keep silent or to toss Maude out on her fashionable derriere.

 

“They won’t tell you about their sorrows and fears, the dark things they think of in the middle of the night, whether their child is just in the next room or far away…” Again, Maude stopped speaking, though whether that faint hitch in her voice was affectation or not, Chris couldn’t tell.

 

When she continued, her voice was quiet and she looked straight at JD.  “But, dear boy, the one thing that you should absolutely know that no mother would _ever_ tell you is that it is something that one is _never_ prepared for, despite well-meant advice from one’s own relations.  Being a mother is not something that a woman is born knowing how to do; it is merely a woman doing her best.”

 

“Now that is such a statement on motherhood as I have never heard.”  Josiah’s deep voice made Chris look away from Ezra at last.  The preacher stood behind JD’s chair, smiling at Maude.

 

Sitting back in her chair, Maude returned that smile, but Chris could see it was forced.  “Why, thank you, kind sir.  I’m not often given to such discourse.”  She made as if to rise.

 

“Allow me,” Josiah offered, coming around to take her arm.  Ezra stood with her; belatedly, Chris and JD did as well.  “Perhaps you’ll do me the honor of joining me for your repast in a short while?  The evening is almost upon us.”

 

The light was slanting at a long angle when Chris looked out the window.  He hadn’t even noticed the gradual darkening of the saloon.

 

Maude laid her hand lightly on Josiah’s arm.  “I would be delighted,” she replied warmly, and allowed him to lead her to the batwing doors.  Before pushing them open to escort her out, Josiah turned and winked back at them over her head.

 

“What she said…” JD looked at Maude’s empty chair and shook his head.  “Well, that wasn’t any kind of helpful.  I reckon I ought to ask Mary after all.”

 

“JD…” Chris started.

 

“I’m certain Miz Wells would also be able to offer a point of view,” Ezra interrupted quietly.  “Though I did find this quite… enlightening.”  He picked up his cards and studied them, the edges curled a little from how tightly he’d held them, then tossed them down to the table again.  “Though what Josiah sees in… her, I must admit I can’t fathom.”  He offered the last over his shoulder, making his way to the stairs.

 

“Maybe you did,” JD muttered, “but I sure as hell didn’t.” He pulled on his hat.  “Gonna go talk to Mary.  See ya tomorrow.”

 

Chris ignored JD’s departure.  “Ezra,” he called.  When Ezra paused, hand on the bannister, Chris forced a smile.  “Be expectin’ you to join us for dinner,” he finished softly.

 

The smile he received in return appeared tired, but genuine.  “Then of course I won’t be late.”

 

Chris nodded, relaxing.  Despite all of Maude’s cutting words, so many of which were obviously meant to punish him, Ezra seemed a bit less burdened as he climbed the stairs.

 

 _Still... I’m gonna keep an eye on him until she leaves,_ he thought darkly.  _Ain’t no_ mother _who wants to hurt her child that way._

 

***

Even though he’d told himself that he wasn’t going to see his mother off this time, Ezra still found himself outside the hotel to meet her when the stagecoach pulled up outside the coach station to load.

 

 _It’s not that what she said doesn’t matter,_ he thought, turning his hat over and over in his hands.  _But… even so, understanding her side doesn’t lessen the… the sting felt by the child so treated…_

 

Again, he got that unfamiliar, warm smile when she saw him, as if all the ugliness between them of the past day and more was just a dream.  “Ezra! There you are.”  She tucked her arm under his.

 

Despite her greeting, neither of them said anything for many paces. This time at least none of his compatriots had placed themselves in their path, but it still gave Ezra an unpleasant sense of déjà vu, as if this walk were more akin to running a gauntlet.

 

At the same time, he was very aware of Chris, leaning against a support post on the opposite side of the street.  Ezra could feel those dark eyes on him every moment, burning into him with all of Chris’s intensity, and wondered that Maude didn’t feel it, too.

 

Perhaps she did; before they reached the stagecoach station, she said, “I do hope there are no hard feelin’s from any… poorly considered words that might have been said these past few days.”

 

He knew Maude as well as anyone could be said to, and that was probably as close as he would get to an actual – and sincere – apology.  The words still stung.  _But at least she’s… making the attempt._ “No, Mother,” he replied, “there aren’t.” He wanted so to add an ultimatum – _as long as you never do this again_ – but managed to still the words before he could say them.

 

A faint tension seemed to disappear from the arm twined through his, as if she had been fearful her sideways apology would not have been accepted.  “Well, that’s good.”

 

When they reached the stagecoach, Ezra paused, and Maude faced him.  “I hope that your… venture goes well.  Perhaps you’ll find a suitable… replacement…” He blushed a little as he tripped over the word.  _That was… more difficult than I thought it’d be,_ he thought, licking his lip nervously.

 

“Oh, Ezra,” Maude said, laying her gloved hand on his face. “You aren’t replaceable, darlin’.  Why, anyone else would be a pale imitation.”

 

And the realization that had been slowly building since her words in the saloon suddenly came clear.  _She_ does _care_ , he thought in something like wonder.  _She just doesn’t always know how to show it._ He turned away to hide his smile and said nothing, not because he couldn’t think of anything, but because he wasn’t sure his voice would be strictly under control.

 

She leaned forward to prompt him to kiss her cheek, bestowed a peck on his, then whispered, “Ezra, why is Mr. Larabee starin’ at us?”

 

He glanced over his shoulder, smiled when Chris didn’t look away, even though he’d been caught out.  “Well, Mother, Mr. Larabee doesn’t take it kindly when someone is… shall we say, less than considerate? to his friends.” And he didn’t stumble over that word the slightest bit.

 

Maude gave him a searching look, then shook her head.  “Take care of yourself, darlin’,” she said, and her fingers caressed his face as she pulled away.

 

His smile widened.  “Good luck in… San Francisco,” he offered, squeezing her hand.

 

She inclined her head, as if that was no more than her due.  Then he helped her up into the stagecoach and shut the door.  With a crack of the reins and a shrill whistle from the driver, the stagecoach lurched into motion.  In only moments, it disappeared down the road in a swirl of dust.

 

Watching the departing stagecoach for a moment, Ezra discovered he wasn’t at all surprised that Chris was at his shoulder, silent but _there_.  He flashed a grin at him.  “Don’t think for a moment, Mr. Larabee, that I’m not aware of what you were doin’ yesterday.”  Then he let his voice and demeanor soften, let this be something just for Chris.  “Or that I’m not grateful for your efforts.”

 

With a hint of a smile, Chris nodded.  He tilted his upper body closer, as if to bump his shoulder, and his arm brushed Ezra’s as if offering comfort again before he straightened away.  They stood in silence as the dust stirred up from the stagecoach’s leaving floated back down to earth.

 

“Want a drink?” Chris asked.

 

“Oh, Lord, yes,” he sighed.

 

Chris grinned then, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and put a hand on his shoulder to steer him toward the saloon.  “Then let’s go have one.”  Ezra felt a shiver run down his back.  Chris rarely touched him in public – rarely touched _anyone_ in public – and the gesture warmed him more than he could say.

 

As they made their way back to the saloon, close enough that their hands touched as if by accident, Chris asked, “Do I even wanna know what she’s plannin’?”

 

“No, I suspect you don’t.”

 

Chris chuckled, a sound that never failed to make Ezra smile, made his chest feel a little tight.  For once, he let himself bask in the feeling.

 

As they approached the saloon, Chris frowned at the wagon that was making its slow way up the street.  “Looks like Nettie’s team… wonder why JD drove to town?”

 

When he spied the passenger on the wagon’s bench, Ezra thought he knew the answer to that question.  “Oh, Lord,” he muttered. Chris looked at him questioningly, and he continued, “I just saw one mother off… must I now deal with another?”

 

Chris laughed again, and didn’t protest when Ezra hustled him into the saloon.

 

***

It wasn’t often that JD drove Nettie’s wagon to town – usually it was only when what they needed on the ranch was something he couldn’t carry there on his horse.  But then Buck saw JD wasn’t alone on the wagon, and he couldn’t hold back his grin.

 

“Casey, darlin’!” he said brightly as the wagon lurched to a stop.  “If you ain’t the prettiest thing I’ve seen in a dog’s age.”  He reached up to help her down from the seat.

 

“Buck Wilmington, I’ve heard you say to just about every woman in this town,” Casey replied tartly, but with a smile, as if she couldn’t help how her words sounded.  She took his hand.

 

Slow and awkward, leaning heavily on him for support, she made it down to the ground, JD standing behind her in the narrow seat to try to help while Buck braced her from below.  As soon as she’d made it down, JD clambered down after her, shooting Buck a look composed of equal amounts of worry and exasperation.

 

 _Looks like he’s all set to mother hen the poor girl,_ Buck thought. Hell, he probably had been since they’d left Nettie’s.  _And he complains about the rest of us_.  He had to smooth his mustache to hide his grin.

 

Casey pressed her hands to her back, grimacing as she tried to ease the muscles there.  The position made her very pregnant belly stick out further, and for a moment, Buck marveled that such a tiny gal could even carry such a weight, much less move around with it.

 

“Casey!”  Nathan’s voice carried down the street, then Nathan bustled in among them, frowning, and put his hands on Casey’s shoulders.  “Casey, I told ya months ago no ridin’!”

 

“We didn’t ride,” JD said before Casey could.  “We came in the wagon.”

 

Nathan straightened, blinking, as if just noticing the wagon, then turned to look at Casey again.  “If somethin’s wrong, ya shoulda…”

 

“No, nothin’s wrong, Nathan,” Casey replied, and this time her tone was very sharp.  “Just… JD told me about Miz Standish bein’ in town, and how she told his fortune.  I was hopin’ if I asked, maybe she’d tell the baby’s fortune.”

 

Nathan’s brow creased in sympathy. “Sorry, Casey… the stage just left, just a few minutes ago, and Ezra’s ma was on it.”

 

Immediately, Casey turned to JD and smacked his arm.  “Told ya you were drivin’ too slow!  We missed her!”

 

JD raised his hands to protect himself.  “Casey… jeez! Calm down!  She’ll be back, an’ I told you – she said she couldn’t do it now anyway…”

 

“I don’t care! It’s still your fault, talkin’ about it so.”  She huffed, angry at being deprived of her target.  “I’m gonna take a walk. Long as that’s all right?” She turned her glare onto Nathan.

 

Nathan frowned a little.  “Reckon so.  Ya take it easy, though, an’ sit down if ya need to.”

 

“I will,” she replied, gracing Nathan with a brittle smile.  “Just need to walk a bit.  Been sittin’ for more than an hour, JD drove so slow.”  One hand braced against her lower back once more, she moved off a few paces, her steps slow and maybe just a bit wobbly.

 

Nathan watched her for a moment, then hissed at JD, “What’re ya thinkin’, her so near her time?”

 

“Me?” JD protested, barely remembering to keep his voice down so Casey wouldn’t hear.  “She’s the one who insisted!  And since she’s already mad at me for… everything…”

 

Casey stepped up onto the boardwalk, pulling herself up with one of the support posts, and Buck drifted after her.  He didn’t doubt that both JD and Nathan were watching even as they argued, but… just better to have someone close in case she started to fall, because she didn’t look too steady.

 

She rubbed the side of her belly, face pinched a little, but before Buck could do anything more than wonder if he imagined it, it was gone, and Casey smiled as she greeted Mrs. Potter.

 

So it went for a while, Casey seeming pleased to talk to the people she met while slowly making her way up the boardwalk.  Outside the jail, she leaned against the back of one of the chairs.

 

“Why’n’t you sit down?” Buck asked, leaning against the nearest support post.

 

“’Cause I’m not sure I could get back up again,” she shot back, then gave him a rueful smile.  “Sorry.  I just can’t seem to stop snappin’.  Besides, it feels good to walk right now.”

 

“Then you keep on doin’ it,” he replied with a smile.  “You just let me know when you’re ready to go back.”

 

She rolled her eyes.  “JD was motherin’ me the whole ride to town,” she said, her voice filled with fond irritation.  “I think I could stand to walk a little longer.”

 

But before she could resume her stroll along the boardwalk, something happened.  “Ow!” Looking down in surprise, she put her hand on her belly.

 

Buck felt his stomach lurch, and was right next to her in one long stride.  “Casey? You all right, darlin’?”

 

“I… I don’t know,” she said hesitantly, and looked up, eyes wide.  “Been havin’ twinges for a coupla days, but Nettie said they didn’t mean nothin’ if they stopped, and they did.  But this one _hurt_.”

 

 _Oh, Lord,_ he thought, trying to keep panic away.  “Think maybe we’d best get on back to JD and Nathan,” he said, damn near tripping over the words, and passed his arm around her back in case she needed it.

 

She punched him in the side, kept on walking when he stopped with an _oof_.  “I already got JD thinkin’ I can’t do anythin’ myself,” she bit out over her shoulder.  “I don’t need _you_ doin’ it, too.”

 

 _Boy, she is a wildcat,_ he thought, and rubbed his side.  He caught up with her quick, though.  Casey’s blow to his side was _nothing_ compared to what JD would do to him if something happened to her while he was with her.

 

***

Chris woke from a light doze and stretched out his legs, trying to find a more comfortable position without shifting Ezra, who had finally fallen asleep, tilted slightly sideways and leaning on his shoulder.

 

It was late – hell, it’d been after midnight the last time Ezra had checked his watch – and they should all be in bed.  But instead, they were all out here on the balcony outside the clinic, waiting.

 

JD’s panicked shout of “What, _now?_ ” had drawn the rest of them running, and they’d arrived just in time to see Nathan stop Casey from kicking JD in the shin.

 

They hadn’t all been here the whole time, of course, but had taken turns keeping JD company as he alternately paced the balcony and sat on the bench near the door, fidgeting.

 

“JD, best you go somewhere else,” Nathan had said, blocking the door after Mary had ushered Casey inside.  “First babies like to take their time gettin’ born.  Be hours yet before it happens.”

 

“H-hours?” JD had stuttered, paling.  Then he swallowed, lifted his chin and asked, “Can’t I come in?”  Chris wasn’t sure he’d ever been as proud of JD as he had in that moment.

 

“No!” Casey had shouted from inside.  “JD, Nathan don’t need you underfoot or crackin’ your head on somethin’ when you faint!”

 

Nathan had coughed into his fist to cover his laughter, while JD flushed, and opened his mouth to holler back.  Before he could say anything, Nathan started to close the door. “JD, I reckon Casey might wanna have Miz Nettie here… why’n’t you go bring her?”

 

“But…”  JD didn’t get any further by the time the door was firmly shut.

 

Vin laid a hand on his shoulder.  “If ya wanna stay here, JD, I’ll go get her for ya.”

 

With a wan smile, JD said, “Thanks, Vin.” 

 

They’d all drifted away after that, except for Buck, only to wander back, time and again.  Each time, JD was more and more worried and fidgety.  As the evening wore on, occasionally they heard Casey yelling from inside, “JD Dunne!  I’m gonna kill you for this!”

 

There hadn’t been any shouts like that for some time – just ragged cries and sobs that made JD flinch and pace faster.  Just now, though, it was quiet.

 

Chris glanced around; Vin had brought up a lantern a short while after dark when it became clear that JD wasn’t going to stop pacing.  Vin and Josiah sat on the floor across from him and Ezra, back to back to prop each other up as they dozed.  Buck slept leaning against the wall of the clinic at the end of the bench, his legs stretched across the narrow balcony.

 

Just then, a wail split the air, the distinctive sound of a baby crying, and JD stopped short in shock.  Then, shaking it off, he hurried to the door, and reached for the knob just as it opened.

 

Nathan stood in the door, outlined by the lamp behind him.  He wiped his hands on a towel, tired but happy.  “Congratulations, JD,” he said warmly.  “Ya got a fine baby boy.”

 

“A boy?” JD staggered a little, and looked as ready to faint as Casey had accused him earlier.  Then he pulled himself together.  “Can I…?” He gestured toward the door, trembling a little in his eagerness.

 

“Yeah, of course, c’mon.”

 

Chris nudged Ezra lightly with his elbow.  “Hey,” he murmured when Ezra twitched and straightened away from him.  “Baby’s born.”

 

“About time,” Ezra muttered, but Chris could just make out the glitter of his gold tooth as he grinned.  Between them, they woke the others, and they all crowded around the doorway.

 

Nettie stood by the head of the bed, her hand on Casey’s hair, her eyes suspiciously bright.  Casey herself looked tired and sweaty, hair tangled, but she was smiling, and Chris remembered with a pang how Sarah had looked after Adam was born, exhausted but proud, and already loving that boy so much…

 

Casey had her eyes on JD and Nathan.  Nathan was just handing the baby, swaddled up in a blanket, to JD.  “Make sure you hold his head… yeah, like that.”

 

Chris craned his neck to get a better look, was vaguely amused to see the others doing the same.  The baby’s hair was thin but dark, his face red and squished, and he made a few huffing noises, like he was settling down from his earlier cry.

 

“Hey there,” JD whispered.  “I’m your father.”

 

Ezra’s hand bushed his, and Chris realized he must have made some sound.  When he glanced to the side, he saw Ezra looking at him, brow creased in worry, and gave a tiny shake of his head.  _Maybe afterward_ , he thought, _I’ll tell Ezra I said something like that to Adam the first time I held him._

 

“... glad you’re here,” JD said.  “And you know, I think your uncles are, too.” He glanced up when Nathan squeezed his shoulder, then looked at the rest of them, still standing in the doorway, and smiled.

 

Chris swallowed the lump that wanted to rise in his throat.  _How about that?_ he thought, and smiled, wrapping his hand around Ezra’s to squeeze a little.  Ezra looked just about as amazed as he felt.

 

“Hell,” Vin muttered after a moment, sounding even raspier than usual, “I’ve never been an uncle before.”

 

“I have,” Buck said, his voice low and thick with emotion.  “It’s a great thing to be.”

 

Josiah clapped each of them on the back, grinning widely even though his eyes were damp.  “Looks like we all get a chance to see what it’s like to be part of such a family.”

 

 _Fin_

 

**Author's Note:**

> The request I received was:  
> Pairing: Chris/Ezra, Vin/Ezra or any other Ezra pairing  
> Characters: Any, all or none of the other seven along with the pairing  
> Theme/prompt: Something "family"-related: real family, surrogate family, annoying family, unexpected family, missed or missing family... anything along this broad theme, happy, sad, harmonious or combative would be lovely!
> 
> Also, this fic would not be anything as it is now without the help of my absolutely wonderful beta. She has my deepest gratitude for all the hard work she put in on this story, for all the help she gave me, and for all the insightful discussion we had over it. Thank you so much, my dear!


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